


I'll Be Your Girl

by cheinsaw



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Backrubs, Canonical Character Death, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Literal Sleeping Together, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill, Temporary Character Death, i just really like oryouma, she aint dead yet but its happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-11-26 08:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheinsaw/pseuds/cheinsaw
Summary: Prompt fills for Fate ladies and sometimes nonladies. Requests closed as of 10/21/19.okita/nobu - 1, 7, 11oryou/ryouma - 2, 5shuten/ibaraki - 3nitocris/scheherazade - 4ritsuka♀️/mash - 6maou nobu/okita alter - 8irisviel/maiya - 9jeanne/jalter - 10





	1. okita/nobunaga - in a rush of adrenaline

"Master wants me to go with her to the next Singularity!" Nobunaga announces one morning, and Okita feels her heart drop.

"Oh," she says, trying not to let it show. "When?"

"Like right now," Nobunaga says, fastening the buttons on her shirt.

"You forgot until right now?!"

"Hey, I didn't forget! I was gonna tell you before, but we've been so busy!"

As Nobunaga is hastily dressing herself, Okita considers this development. If Nobu has to leave, then Nobu has to leave, and it's not like she won't return. Okita just wishes she'd had time to prepare for it.

"Okay, Souji, I'm off!"

Okita raises her hand, then falters. "Nobu," she says, and—as though she cannot control her own movements, grabs Nobunaga by the shoulder.

"Huh?" Nobunaga says, turning around with a gleam in her eyes. "What's up? Don't tell me the manslayer Okita-san is gonna miss me?"

"And what if I do?" Okita tries not to pout. Nobunaga always gets her so easily, so effortlessly.

Nobunaga laughs, loud and shameless, then brings her own hand up to touch Okita's where it rests against the fabric of her cloak. "Hey, Souji, don't be like that. It's fine! I'll be back before you even get a chance to think about it. Promise."

"I know. Look, forget it."

"Aww, come on. You know, I miss you too."

Okita wrinkles her nose. She doubts it. "Really?"

"Yep! All the time, whenever we're apart, I wish I was back here. Or I wish you could be with me. But, you know, it's just temporary! I know I'm always coming back to you, so it's fine!" Nobunaga leans forward and gets on her tiptoes, so her nose nearly touches Okita's. "Got it?"

Okita feels like Nobunaga might set her ablaze. "I understand, I think."

"Good," Nobunaga says, and closes the distance between them. The kiss is rough, passionate; Nobunaga pulls at Okita's lip with her teeth, Okita crushes Nobunaga's body close to hers. When they finally pull apart, Nobunaga's face is pink, and she looks almost dazed.

"Some goodbye kiss," Okita mumbles. She's sure her face is just as red.

"I gotta go now," Nobu breathes against Okita's mouth. "Okay? I'll be back soon."

"Yeah."

"I love you, Souji," she says, and gives Okita a final peck on the lips. "Alright, _now_ I'm off!"

Okita's knees feel weak. Nobunaga always gets her so easily. "I love you too. Take care, Nobu."


	2. oryou/ryouma - to say goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for brief discussion of eating human flesh (actual eating of human flesh does not happen) and for EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH :)

1867

When Oryou returns to the inn, they're already gone. Ryouma and Nakaoka both. Oryoua quickly forgets about the food she'd gone out to buy, her whole body chilling with shock. Her bag falls out of her hands and hits the floor. She doesn't care.

"Oh," she says, though there's no one there to answer her.

Ryouma's blood smells the same as it always has to Oryou: sweet, delicious, tantalizing. Yet she can't bring herself to taste it. It seems wrong, and something is caught in her throat, and when she brings her hand to her face there are tears staining her cheeks.

"Oi, Ryouma," she says quietly, kneeling at his side. "Oryou-san's not gonna eat you, so…" Oryou presses her lips together. _Wake up,_ she wants to tell him, but she knows he won't no matter how hard she begs.

She reaches out, placing her hand on the side of his face. Her stomach drops as it finally sets in: his skin is cold. She is much, much too late.

(It will be the last time she ever touches him before she throws herself into the sea.)

2018

Ryouma wakes in his futon in Chaldea, with Oryou's warm body curled around him and her arm across his waist. Even in her human form, she is still a serpent, so it's not uncommon for Ryouma to wake up and find Oryou nuzzling close to him, sharing in his body heat. Ah, she's so cute. Ryouma will never get tired of this.

His day usually starts with breakfast from the cafeteria. Emiya, Boudica, Tamamo Cat—Ryouma's ever grateful for their cooking. It must be nice, he thinks, having devoted their transient existence here to feeding the others. Sometimes Oryou comes with him, and they eat together; sometimes, like today, Oryou stays in bed, and Ryouma brings his food back to their room for him and Oryou to share.

Ryouma dresses himself, then kneels back down to arrange the blankets around Oryou. Her staying warm is important to Ryouma, even when she's unconscious. He strokes Oryou's hair a moment, then leans in to give her a quick kiss on the top of the head. She doesn't stir. He smiles; it's nice to see Oryou so peaceful.

"See you, Oryou-san," he murmurs. He'll be back soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update 10/11/19: in researching for the next oryouma request i found out that nakaoka actually died two days after ryouma. just imagine oryou stepping over this dying man like RIP TO YOU BUT RYOUMA'S DIFFERENT


	3. shuten/ibaraki - as comfort

It's a rare thing, seeing Shuten like this. Shuten-douji is not often vulnerable, especially around others. Ibaraki has watched her appear to relax, time and time again, but she never fully lets her guard down. Unless, of course, she's alone with Ibaraki.

"Shuten, Shuten," Ibaraki murmurs into the early morning darkness. "Breathe. You're alive. You're here."

Shuten's breath comes in desperate little gasps and hiccuping sobs. "Ibaraki," she whimpers. "It hurts so very badly, my dear..."

"I know." Ibaraki brings her hand up to stroke Shuten's hair, running her claws through it. "I've got you, Shuten. I've got you." Shuten nuzzles her face into the crook of Ibaraki's neck, her tears soaking into Ibaraki's nightshirt. "You want to talk about it?"

Shuten sniffles (Ibaraki marvels at how delicate and elegant even such a thing is, coming from her). "Ah… I dreamt about Ooeyama," she says. That's all that needs to be said, after all. Ibaraki knows; Ibaraki was there. Unlike Shuten, she'd lived to tell the tale.

"Oh, Shuten. It's over," Ibaraki says. "Promise."

"I know," Shuten says. "I was poisoned…"

"You didn't deserve to be murdered that way!"

"But I was, wasn't I?" Shuten has stopped crying, her voice regaining some of its usual melodic lilting. "Aha, such a great oni, but slain by mere… humans…"

"If I ever see any of them again I'll kill them," Ibaraki promises. "I won't let that golden bastard touch you ever again."

"Really?" Shuten shifts, rests her head back on her own pillow. "I'm so flattered."

"Really."

A pause. "Sweetie?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you be a good girl and just hold me a little while longer?"

Ibaraki's face gets hot, and she knows Shuten is all too aware. "Of course. Anything for you, Shuten."

"Ufu, I'm so happy," Shuten says. Ibaraki can clearly imagine Shuten's little half-smile. "For someone to be so kind to me… I really am lucky."

"Anything for you," Ibaraki repeats, because it's true, and in a matter of moments Shuten is asleep in her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a real convo my gf and i had several months ago, which i saved because i've wanted to write this concept since then
> 
> them:  
nono think bigger  
*ibaraki* comforting *shuten*   
shuten is incredibly distressed and incredibly vulnerable in a way she NEVER would let anyone else see ever and ibaraki is just clutching shuten to her chest and stroking her hair and just talking to her very softly
> 
> me:  
the only thing that can calm shuten down when shes like that is being with someone who was there (not raikou or kintoki, god FORBID) because. it's one of those things no one else understands bc they don't have that shared trauma. also, shuten associating the utmost caring and comfort with the feeling of ibarakis big claws stroking through her hair and eventually just being able to relax from ibaraki doing that
> 
> them:  
EVERYONE ELSE FEELS FEAR AND DANGER WHEN IBARAKI REACHES OUT TO TOUCH THME FOR ANY REASON BUT SHUTEN FEELS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BUT COMPLETE SECURITY SEND TWEET
> 
> (next up will be nitocris/scheherazade!)


	4. nitocris/scheherazade - on a falling tear

Chaldea seems different when they return from the race. It's always felt strange to Nitocris, being inside a place like this, but now it is even more so. She still feels as if she's moving over uneven territory, her legs unsteady on the floor beneath her.

She reminds herself to act with dignity, and stands up straight. This is nothing a pharaoh can't handle.

"Are you alright?" Scheherazade asks quietly.

"Ah! Yes, I am." Nitocris reflexively twitches her jackal ears. They're Magecraft enchantments, but she thinks of them as part of herself by now. "It is just a little strange, coming back here after everything."

"Indeed," Scheherazade hums. "But it is safer here…" Nitocris knows what she must be thinking of: what they didn't win. "Well, then, I hope to see you around," she says, and with a slight bow of her head, she disappears down one of Chaldea's hallways. It isn't until she's long gone that Nitocris realizes that the uneasiness she feels now has nothing to do with post-tournament vertigo.

Nitocris mulls it over all night. She considers what Ozymandias would do—a truly great pharaoh would claim what is rightfully theirs, she thinks. Yet Scheherazade is not her prize, and Nitocris wishes to hold no more power over her than she would a fellow king. She only seeks the tender thing she'd felt when Scheherazade was by her side in the passenger seat, and she only hopes Scheherazade felt it too.

She finds Scheherazade curled up in a corner of the Chaldea library, wearing a large sweater, a book held inches from her face. Nitocris swallows, though her mouth is dry. There is something about this—domestic, intimate, the storyteller of the One Thousand and One Nights at home. She's lovely. She's beautiful. Nitocris kind of wants to kiss her.

She clears her throat and tightens her grip on her staff. "Scheherazade. I would like to have a word."

Scheherazade looks up at her with wide, frightened eyes. Nitocris suddenly remembers what Scheherazade had told her when they were alone in their jail cell: her husband, her husband, the killer, the king.

Nitocris weighs her options and sits down on the floor. "How is this?" she says—now she and Scheherazade are at eye level.

"Yes, thank you," Scheherazade murmurs.

"I have a proposition for you," Nitocris says. "After everything that happened, I—Well, you were a wonderful copilot. And you fought so well, all things considered. I think that kind of thing is truly admirable."

Scheherazade is quiet for a long moment, and Nitocris is almost sure she's being rejected. "I dislike battles," she finally says. "If you are seeking me to fight alongside you, I'm afraid I would have to decline…"

"Huh? No, no, that's not it!" Nitocris waves her hand as if to clear the very notion away. "I have been thinking on it, and I would like to propose an… alliance, of sorts."

"An alliance," Scheherazade repeats. She casts her eyes down. "I have already worked out an arrangement with Master… I do not leave Chaldea unless I am certain of my safety."

"I can help with that," Nitocris says. "Even if we did not win the race, I still have my mirror of the Underworld. I can make sure nothing ever happens to you."

"Can you?" Scheherazade's voice is barely a whisper.

"Well, I am a pharaoh. The least I can do is keep my queen safe." Nitocris blinks slowly, savoring the excitement of calling Scheherazade something so forthright out loud. "Is that okay with you? That I want to be yours like that?"

"Ah," Scheherazade says, and looks away. "Forgive me, but I am not sure if I… want you to… belong to me." That stings, but Nitocris holds her tongue and lets Scheherazade continue. "Yet, after this past week, I trust you a great deal more than I ever have anyone. So… perhaps, we can…"

"I understand. As equals, right?" Nitocris finds herself smiling. "I enjoyed having you as my companion. I would like to continue that."

Scheherazade looks as though she might cry. Her green eyes, in this moment, are the most beautiful thing Nitocris has ever seen. "Yes," she says. "If you are willing to have me as I am."

Nitocris reaches out and gently cups Scheherazade's face in one hand, swiping her thumb across the golden teardrop beneath Scheherazade's eye. She's warm, and her skin is so soft. "I am," Nitocris says. "I think I'd like that a lot."


	5. oryou/ryouma - to give up control

At first, Oryou does whatever she wants. Ryouma is able to get her to put on a kimono, but that's the extent of it. Oryou is a divine spirit, after all. She says what she wants, eats what she wants, and goes where she wants. She floats alongside Ryouma, following him from place to place. The owners of the inn where Ryouma is staying right now have gotten used to her too, and she has her own futon in the room adjoining Ryouma's.

And yet, she never touches him. From the very first moment when he pulled the spear from her serpent body, all the way up until now, Oryou has never laid a hand on him. Ryouma wouldn't have paid it any mind, or even noticed at all, if Oryou didn't seem to actively shy away from human touch.

She's a divine spirit, he rationalizes. Beautiful, but deadly. So life goes on.

"Oryou-san, I'm gonna be moving on," he tells her one night. "I'm going to leave here first thing in the morning." Oryou says nothing, staring at Ryouma from across the room with a kind of unnerving brightness in her eyes. "You can go back to Takachiho-no-Mine, you can stay here, or you can come along with me. I don't mind."

(He realizes as he says it that he  _ does  _ mind. The thought of Oryou choosing not to accompany him stings; he's grown far too used to her presence.)

"Oryou-san will think about it," she says, and disappears into the darkness of her own room.

Ryouma doesn't sleep easily that night, but he's rested enough to make his journey. As the sun rises, he packs up what few belongings he carries with him, and tries not to worry himself about Oryou. Just as he's about ready to leave, there's the sudden grasp of a hand on his shoulder, startling him. He doesn't have to look to know it's Oryou. Her hand is cold; Ryouma can feel it even through his kimono.

He turns his head to look up at her. Oryou floats there, her face blank. Her hand doesn't move.

"Um, Oryou-san," Ryouma says.

"Human," she replies. "Oryou-san thinks she will go with you."

"That's all good, but can you at least call me by my name?" Ryouma feels a small rush of relief at the prospect of her staying with him, but he tries not to show it. "It's Sakamoto. Sakamoto Ryouma."

"Sakana."

"No, no, Sakamoto."

"Saka…" Oryou frowns. "Ryouma."

A little shiver runs through him—it must be that she is a divine spirit, saying his given name so casually. "Yeah, that's okay. Thank you, Oryou-san."


	6. gudako/mash - because the world is saved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which guda and mash both have stupid lesbian disorder
> 
> (author also has stupid lesbian disorder)
> 
> *this is a direct sequel to chapter 14 of girls kissing

The week following the Grand Order's completion passes in a blur. Da Vinci handles most of it; it seems she's happiest in her role as acting commander. Still, though, Ritsuka is mostly just tired. It's been a long time since she's had any kind of substantial rest, and she has barely gotten a break since before they'd defeated Solomon. (She is, after all, still just a girl.)

But… there's Mash. The simple thought of her still gives Ritsuka butterflies, even though she's had a week to process things since she impulsively confessed her feelings. Mash certainly takes the edge off things, and Ritsuka would certainly be guilty of zoning out to think about her new girlfriend during at least three important conversations. Even simply being around Mash brings Ritsuka a kind of relaxed comfort, as if all her stress and worries temporarily melt away.

Mash is no different, it seems. She still smiles warmly in delight whenever she sees Ritsuka, but now there is even more affection in her eyes. Ritsuka would guess it has something to do with knowing her feelings are requited. "Senpai," she'll say, just like always, but now she does not hesitate to pull Ritsuka into a hug or bury her face in Ritsuka's shoulder.

It's late afternoon when Ritsuka finally has a chance to go to Mash's room. "Oh, Senpai, you're back!" Mash says excitedly as Ritsuka flops facedown onto her bed.

"I'm back," Ritsuka says into a pillow before rolling onto her side. "Mash, do you wanna lay down with me?"

"Oh! Yes, I would. Um, hold on…" Ritsuka watches as Mash slips off her boots before lying down at Ritsuka's side. She's grinning, practically lovestruck, when she and Ritsuka are finally face to face, so close that their noses touch.

They talk about nothing for a few minutes. When the conversation comes to a lull, Mash closes her eyes and lets Ritsuka kiss her. "Senpai," she says, giggling. "I've been thinking, and I just—I'm happy it's you."

"Yeah?" Ritsuka's smiling too now; it's hard not to, being together with Mash like this.

"I mean, out of everyone who came to Chaldea back then, I'm happy that it was you who became my senpai."

"I'm happy too, Mash," Ritsuka says. It's the absolute truth. She's overjoyed. "I wouldn't want it to be anyone else."


	7. okita/nobu - to pretend

Okita's fallen asleep in her haori again. With the lights on, too. Nobunaga returns to the room they share to find this sight waiting for her: Okita Souji in Shinsengumi blue, lying on her side atop her futon, bathed in fluorescent white.

"Jeez," Nobunaga says quietly.

Okita is different when she's tired, Nobunaga has found. Gone is the cold manslayer, and even her cheerful Okita-san facade. Okita just is. There has to be some kind of trust involved in that, Nobunaga figures, unless the whole genius swordsman thing isn't true and Okita is a lot stupider than Nobunaga first thought. (Nobunaga doubts it.) So, Okita trusts her enough to share a room, to be vulnerable at her side.

Before she can think about it, Nobunaga's sinking down next to Okita, resting on her heels. She reaches out towards Okita, then falters. She shouldn't—Okita is not her girlfriend or her lover or anything of consequence. If Okita were to wake, Nobunaga would be hard pressed to explain what, exactly, she is doing. Nobunaga herself isn't quite sure.

(But she could be. If she strategizes just right, and plots out every possible course and favorable action, she's sure she could tell Okita how she feels.)

"Nobu?"

"That's me!" Nobunaga says. "Hey, Okita, I don't know how you can fall asleep with all these lights on."

"Mmm, I'm just tired." Okita pulls herself up into a sitting position so she's face to face with Nobunaga. "You should get to bed soon too."

"I just got back, so I'm gonna make tea first. Do you want hojicha or this chamomile thing?"

"Oh, hojicha. Thanks, Nobu."

Nobunaga brews the tea, then pours it. When she reaches out to give Okita a cup, their fingertips brush—soft, feathery light. It is the most electrifying contact Nobunaga has felt in a long, long time. For just a split second, she can pretend it means something.

She'll talk to Okita in the morning, she decides. For now, she can be content with this: Okita Souji in Shinsengumi blue, sipping tea with her eyes closed under fluorescent white. For now, that's all Nobunaga wants.


	8. maou nobu/okita alter - where it doesn't hurt

Maou's hands are always warm. All of her is warm, as if there's a coal fire being stoked in her chest where her heart should be. Majin has always found it comforting, and has grown attached: a room or a bed without Maou seems too big and cold.

Majin has just returned from the frontlines of a Singularity. Each time she fights, she is grateful for the life she's been given. With each swing of her sword, each parry and strike and blow, she is alive. Alive, and useful to her master, and  _ loved,  _ all things she never expected to be.

"I'm sure you did wonderful, Majin. You always do," Maou hums. Her thumbs knead into Majin's shoulders, massaging the stress of battle away. "Does this hurt at all?"

"No. It's..." Majin considers which word to use. "It feels nice," she decides.

"I see. Very good."

It's better than good, but Majin has learned by now that she doesn't need to say that. Maou knows. So Majin sits there on the bed, quiet and content while Maou rubs her back.

"Maou," she says after a long few minutes of this.

"Yes, love?"

"Will you stay with me?"

Maou laughs, loud and throaty. "I have no plans to the contrary, Majin. I thought you knew. In fact, I was worried you were going to ask me to leave."

"No," Majin replies. "I want you here."

"Is that so?" Maou has taken her hands off Majin's shoulders and started absently running her fingers through Majin's hair instead. "How fitting. I like being here."

That night, Maou falls asleep first, which doesn't often happen. Majin studies her face in the dark: her strong cheekbones and the curve of her eyebrows. Maou's arm rests over Majin's waist, pinning her close and warm. She smells like smoke, char, blackened burning and rising from the grave. She carries Honnouji on her skin, even in the quietest of moments.

Majin settles against the furnace of Maou's body. Her legs twine with Maou's; she tucks her head underneath Maou's chin. When she first materialized, when she was first allowed to live, Majin hadn't wanted to sleep. Each moment is a precious thing that she doesn't dare squander. Yet with Maou, it is different. Resting together has become something she finds herself looking forward to, and no time spent with Maou is wasted.

Satisfied, Majin sinks into a blissful, dreamless sleep.


	9. irisviel/maiya - because you are running out of time

This is the ending she always knew would come.

Irisviel lies flat on her back in the warehouse. The ground is uneven under her, but she barely feels it. There's not much she can do, at this point: the war is drawing closer to its end, and so her body is too.

At the very least, she's not alone. There is a small comfort to be had in Maiya, who guards her at Kiritsugu's request. Death may be approaching her from the inside out and outside in, but there is a woman with a gun at her side who will refuse to let anyone else come close.

"Is Kiritsugu coming?" Irisviel asks, if only to break the silence in the room.

Maiya shakes her head once. "I'm not sure."

"I see." Irisviel brings her arms up, clasps her hands over her chest. The day stretches into night. There's nothing much that she can do but wait, then.

Quiet, once again. "Do you—" Maiya says, then stops, as if she has thought better of asking.

"Do I?" Irisviel repeats.

"No, never mind." Maiya turns her gaze to the far wall.

"No, it's okay. You can talk to me," Irisviel says. For as long as Maiya has been around, she realizes, the two of them have never really _talked._ They've exchanged pleasantries and small talk, but Maiya mostly keeps to herself. Whether it's a discomfort with being around Irisviel when she is Kiritsugu's legal wife, or simply in Maiya's nature, Irisviel doesn't know. But Irisviel has no room in her short life for what-ifs. "I _want_ to talk," she says.

Maiya shifts where she sits. "I… Do you regret it?"

It's a loaded question, but Irisviel considers it. "No," she finally answers. "This is the end I was born for. To experience all that I have in the past ten years despite that… I truly am happy." 

"Ah," Maiya says. "…Sorry."

"Don't be." Irisviel closes her eyes. After a long pause: muted warmth, a small pressure at her right hand. When Irisviel looks, her hand is now resting heavily in Maiya's.

"Maiya?" Irisviel says quietly.

Maiya doesn't say anything for a long time. Eventually, carefully, as if she's been considering her words the whole time: "…You shouldn't have to be alone."

Irisviel smiles. "I see. Thank you," she says, and means it.

This is the end Irisviel knew would come: rapidly wasting away, dying slow on the floor of a warehouse somewhere in Fuyuki. But she had never expected a companion. And so, Maiya sits and holds her hand, keeping watch until the sun comes up.


	10. jeanne/jalter - to say good morning

Jeanne Alter wakes up uncomfortable, as usual. It's not the usual  _ kind, _ though—existential dread, or a deep burning sickness resting behind her ribcage. No, she is lying on her side, and she's sticky with sweat, and her arm is numb.

Of course it'd be her other self. Gross. The Alter vaguely remembers lying down next to Jeanne the night before, and if she thinks about it she can recall sleep overtaking her body. Logically, then, yeah, she  _ would _ wake up still at Jeanne's side, but the bed was never meant for two. And so, Jeanne d'Arc is resting soundly on top of her Alter's left arm.

"Hey," the Alter says, roughly grabbing Jeanne's shoulder with her free hand. "You're on my arm, get up."

"Hmm?" Jeanne's eyes flicker for a moment before she actually wakes. "Oh, I'm sorry!" She shifts her body, freeing the Alter. "Did you sleep alright?"

"I guess." The Alter shakes her arm, trying to get her blood circulating again. "Don't just let me pass out here, it gets uncomfortable as shit."

Jeanne smiles at her in patient understanding. "You keep me so warm, ma moitié." Pause. A small shift in her face. "Um, Alter, you're not actually uncomfortable, are you?"

The Alter grunts dismissively. "It's fine." She instead busies herself with sitting up to stretch her arms, bringing them up and over her head to try and get the pins and needles to subside. One of her elbows crunches and pops, to her satisfaction.

"What was that?" Jeanne asks, looking up at her. Wrapped in her own white blankets, with her blonde hair coming loose from its braid, she looks like one of those angels she loves so much.

"My bones," the Alter replies.

"Your bones?"

"You've never popped a joint? What, you're telling me saints just have perfect bodies?" The Alter tilts her head to one side, loudly cracking another joint in her neck.

"I wasn't aware," Jeanne muses. "I have never felt the need to do such a thing."

The Alter doesn't say anything, but once she's done stretching she lets herself sink back down into the bed. She pulls the blankets up over her shoulders, then rolls onto her side so she's facing away from Jeanne. "You can, y'know, cuddle me. If you want."

"Oh! I'd be happy to," Jeanne says. Her Alter can practically hear the smile in her voice. She tucks her arm over the Alter's waist, nuzzling close to her and pressing a tiny, chaste kiss to the back of the Alter's neck.

Jeanne can always go right to sleep, which her Alter has envied for months now. It's more difficult for the Alter—she is forced to simply lie still until her eyes close. Jeanne's breath against her shoulder grows slow and steady. The Alter stares at the blank expanse of the wall before her.

She's sure Jeanne is asleep. It's fine. It's fine. The Alter rolls over, pretending she doesn't care about displacing Jeanne's arm holding her. She pauses, considering Jeanne's peaceful face. After a long few moments she decides she cannot stand to look any longer—it makes her feel too strange and vulnerable, like something warm curling inside her chest. The Alter acquiesces to herself, and pulls Jeanne close into her, pressing her own face into the crook of Jeanne's neck.

Yes, this is fine. It's fine, and the Alter can feel sleep coming easily at long last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this the same thing as the maou/majin? yeah. do i care?
> 
> no


	11. okita/nobu - as a yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a direct continuation of chapter 7.

When Okita returns from the cafeteria in the morning, Nobunaga is sitting by the tea table in their room, fully dressed, fidgeting with her hands like she's nervous. It's a look unbefitting of the Demon King that Nobunaga claims to be; here she is nothing but a human woman. "Hey, Okita," Nobunaga says, and Okita's heart leaps into her throat.

It's not as if she's unused to Nobunaga's presence. Quite the opposite. Okita is so very used to Nobunaga that she can pick up on the slight difference in Nobunaga's tone, the shift of Nobunaga's facial expressions. And something about that scares her, in a way that nothing else ever has.

Lately, Nobunaga makes her chest hurt. Not in the way her tuberculosis does, no. Nobunaga makes her heart swell and ache and stab. It's not a dull pain; it's light and fluttering and unable to be contained.

Okita knows what this must be. She's never liked anyone like this before—she had been the only woman in the Shinsengumi, and then she'd been confined to her older sister's care, so it's not like she has any experience with love, but…

(What, exactly, is she meant to do?)

"Hi," Okita says.

"Come sit."

Okita does. "Is there something going on?"

"Ah, kinda? Not really, no. I wanted to talk to you. Is that good enough?"

"Talk to me?"

"Yeah," Nobunaga says. "Look, Okita, I've been thinking about this a lot after you said that thing about us having a destined connection."

Okita's face burns. "I don't know what I was thinking—"

"Oh? So you don't think we have a destined connection?" Okita is speechless; unable to either agree or deny it. "Cause I think we do. You're, you know, you're special to me. Even more than Monkey and Takki and all of them."

"I don't want to be your retainer," Okita says. (That much is true.)

"I'm not asking you to!" Nobunaga is suddenly closer to her than before. "I don't want you to work for me or anything. Just, you know, like what we have now, but we can kiss and stuff."

"Nobu, are you—?"

"Asking you out? Mmm, mmm, I am. Is that a problem?"

"Nobu," Okita says. Her voice cracks, but that's the last thing on her mind. Nobu, confessing to her. This must be a dream.

She pinches herself. It hurts.

This is not a dream.

"What?" Nobunaga says, her red eyes growing wild. "Hey, Okita, it's not a big deal. You look like you're gonna cry."

Okita's mind is blank, and whatever she could possibly think to say is stuck in her throat. Her heart pounds. How many times has she thought about this—idle fantasies of Nobunaga returning her feelings, of Nobunaga making it easy and taking the lead and just kissing her?

She leans forward into Nobunaga, as if she can put all her feelings into a hug. "Nobu," Okita says again, squeezing Nobunaga tight.

"Huh? Is that a yes?" Nobunaga says hopefully. She tentatively puts her own arms around Okita, embracing her lightly.

"Yeah," Okita says into Nobunaga's shoulder.

"Yeah?" Nobunaga pulls back slightly, so she and Okita are face to face. She's grinning, now. "Man, I really didn't think you were gonna take it this well!"

Okita fumbles for the right words. "I've never done this before," she says. "I didn't—but you're—I like you, Nobu."

Nobunaga's whole face lights up, and suddenly Okita is being kissed on the mouth. It's warm. Nobunaga is so close. It's not perfect by any means, but it's enough to make Okita forget how to think for a moment. She tries to angle her head to match what she's given and kiss Nobunaga back, but Nobunaga just laughs, a rumbling that warms Okita's soul.

"Last night, I was," Nobunaga gasps. "I was thinking after we had tea—" She pauses for another round of laughter. "I was imagining that you were gonna kick me out of here when I said I liked you."

"Why would I kick you out?" Okita says, half-giggling herself. "If it ever came to that, I would probably just go stay with Hijikata-san for a little while."

"And eat takuan for every meal? You'd be running back to me."

"Shut up!"

Nobunaga smiles, eyes half-lidded, and leans forward so the tip of her nose touches Okita's. "Gladly," she says, and closes the distance between them once again.


End file.
